I was thinking how much easier blogging might be if I only had to write a sentence or two a day. Kind of like I could make my point, keep loyal readers up to date, be ever-so-cryptic, tease, bitch, throw a hissy fit, heap praise, offer up the snide remark or two, and be done with it.
That's what I love about the "status" feature on Facebook. For those of you under a rock in a cave on a deserted island circa 1960s Gilligan (I'll admit, that was me just a couple months ago), Facebook is a social networking site on the 'Net where people post pics, yak about every piddling detail of their sometimes-not-all-that-scintillating lives, play games, and on occasion "throw a sheep" at someone. Trust me, it's not as looney tunes as it sounds. Or perhaps it is.
My favorite part of Facebook is the "status," which allows you to write a few words or a sentence about whatever it is you're doing or thinking or planning to do or think or have thought or planned in the past. Ok. So I'm not making this sound nearly as fabulous as it truly is.
If you're having a rotten day, you say so. Then your friends -- those people who have for some reason sought you out and asked to be put on your special list of special people who can throw farm animals at you and kick your ass at Scrabble -- can see that you've had a rotten day and inquire about what happened and what they can do to help. Or if you make a brilliant observation about life and whatnot, which I am wont to do, you know, your friends can bow before you in cyberspace awe. Or if you just burned your finger on the brownie pan, you can declare, as I did this afternoon, that you are not Martha Stewart.
Perhaps that goes without saying. But I said it. Thus, the glory of the "status."
You also get to read your friends' statuses (stati...plural? surely not). You can find out that it's Karla's kids' first day back at school. Or Joey's got the big job interview today. Or Billy just got his new issue of Playboy. And then you see that sometimes it's not always necessary to know every little detail of your friends' lives. Besides, if he really wanted to tell you that, he could have texted you. It's 2008, come on.
So if I were to live my blog life through one-sentence status reports, how would it read?
Stay tuned.
That's what I love about the "status" feature on Facebook. For those of you under a rock in a cave on a deserted island circa 1960s Gilligan (I'll admit, that was me just a couple months ago), Facebook is a social networking site on the 'Net where people post pics, yak about every piddling detail of their sometimes-not-all-that-scintillating lives, play games, and on occasion "throw a sheep" at someone. Trust me, it's not as looney tunes as it sounds. Or perhaps it is.
My favorite part of Facebook is the "status," which allows you to write a few words or a sentence about whatever it is you're doing or thinking or planning to do or think or have thought or planned in the past. Ok. So I'm not making this sound nearly as fabulous as it truly is.
If you're having a rotten day, you say so. Then your friends -- those people who have for some reason sought you out and asked to be put on your special list of special people who can throw farm animals at you and kick your ass at Scrabble -- can see that you've had a rotten day and inquire about what happened and what they can do to help. Or if you make a brilliant observation about life and whatnot, which I am wont to do, you know, your friends can bow before you in cyberspace awe. Or if you just burned your finger on the brownie pan, you can declare, as I did this afternoon, that you are not Martha Stewart.
Perhaps that goes without saying. But I said it. Thus, the glory of the "status."
You also get to read your friends' statuses (stati...plural? surely not). You can find out that it's Karla's kids' first day back at school. Or Joey's got the big job interview today. Or Billy just got his new issue of Playboy. And then you see that sometimes it's not always necessary to know every little detail of your friends' lives. Besides, if he really wanted to tell you that, he could have texted you. It's 2008, come on.
So if I were to live my blog life through one-sentence status reports, how would it read?
Stay tuned.
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